What's worse than a fake 'I love you' ?
by Easnadh
Summary: Oliver and Felicity go undercover at a fancy dress event at a nightclub, and things get a little out of hand.
1. Chapter 1

Oliver rounded the corner beside the 'Q Club', dodging groups of partygoers decked out in a range of garish and provocative costumes. He scanned the crowd looking for Felicity, his 'date' for the night. It took him a moment to find her, and when he did, his mouth went dry.

Felicity was wearing his suit. Well, not quite. It was almost the same, complete with a bow, a quiver, and a hood, except where Oliver had (to his mind) sensible leather pants, she seemed to have a short miniskirt that just about grazed the middle of her thigh. Not that there was much leg on show though, because of the dark green knee high leather boots she was wearing, with heels that looked like lethal weapons in themselves and silver zips that sliced them from the knee to the heel. Oliver swallowed, gaze travelling up her legs, unable to stop himself from noticing the way the tight leather clung to every curve. His eyes finally came to rest on her chest, which was really only partially covered. He'd never seen her show so much cleavage before. He actually felt himself break out into a sweat.

"Oliver?" her voice was a little shaky, almost as if she were nervous, or uncomfortable.

Oliver realised he had been staring and quickly moved his eyes upwards to her face... which was a mistake. Felicity's hood was down, and her hair was up in its usual sleek ponytail, fully exposing the green mask she wore. She had ringed her eyes with dark green makeup, so that they blended almost seamlessly with the mask. And her lips, well, her lips popped. Coated in daring red lipstick and offset against the dark green of her mask and makeup, they looked even fuller and more striking than usual.

"Oliver? Is everything ok?"

God damn it, he was still staring. Oliver clenched his fists at his sides as she moved closer, forcing himself not to step back... or forward. He wasn't sure which was harder.

"Mhmm-hmm. Yes, I'm just... you didn't tell me what you'd be wearing."

Felicity reached up to touch her mask nervously, much like she usually did with her glasses, her eyes half shut as she avoided his gaze.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I thought it'd be funny, you know? You and me sneaking into a fancy dress party, doing some secret vigilante-ing, all while I'm dressed in your suit. Well, you know not wearing your actual suit, because that would be weird, but..."

"Felicity."

He put his hand on her shoulder to calm her, and tried not to notice when she shuddered under his touch. He opened his mouth to speak, and found himself staring at her lips again. When had he moved so close to her? Or had she gotten closer to him? He watched her bite her lip nervously and his hand automatically tightened on her shoulder. He quickly removed it.

"Felicity, it's fine. It is funny... you look good."

He looked her in the eye and smiled when he said it, reassuring her in the only way he knew. He saw her smile in response, her eyes shining in the dark makeup and mask.

"You look good too, you know," Felicity said cheerfully, playfully tugging at the peak of his cap. "I see I'm not the only one who appreciates irony."

Oliver grinned, readjusting the jacket of the cop uniform he wore.

"I had this left over from my short-lived college days." He paused, smile widening. "You know, frat boy stuff."

A comment she had once made about frat boys crossed his mind, but he managed to catch himself before his eyes dropped to her chest again. He half-caught her smile as she turned and led him towards the club opening, where a short queue had already formed.

According to rumours Roy had picked up in the Glades, this club was actually a front for a weapons trafficking operation, and crates of high-powered assault rifles were currently being stored under their feet. Felicity had hacked into their systems the day before to find purchasing records for a very sophisticated security system, complete with an apparently "unhackable" security door. Felicity was the only one who could break into it on-site, and as Digg was taking some time to be with Lyla before their baby arrived and Roy was out of town, it was just the two of them tonight. And that was why he and Felicity were currently using the fancy dress event as an opportunity to get into the club, to hack the door and gather evidence that could be passed on to Laurel. Oliver wondered idly where Felicity could possibly be hiding her tablet in that outfit, found his own outfit growing uncomfortably hot, and turned his mind to other things.

"I didn't expect it to be this kind of party," he muttered to Felicity, gesturing towards the other occupants of the queue. French maids, playboy bunnies, burlesque dancers, and nurses crowded next to them. He was sure he could see some dubious-looking leather outfits further along the line.

Felicity shrugged. "What fancy dress isn't sexual these days? It's fine anyway, you look like a stripper."

Oliver looked at her sidelong, but she continued without pause. "I mean really, with that body, it screams stripper, not cop. And there aren't many women who'd complain if you started taking that shirt off."

The doorman interrupted her and Oliver had to swallow his disappointment. He had liked where that was going. Mentally he shook himself, telling himself to get a grip and focus on the mission. This was Felicity. She was not the kind of girl you took to a party like this, and she would probably be appalled if she knew what was going through his head right now. Besides, Oliver knew that he couldn't think this way about her. He had told her that he loved her, and he knew he shouldn't have, but he had been so afraid that Slade would win and he would never have the chance to be with her again. But now, Slade was gone, and if nothing else he had confirmed Oliver's fears about the dangers of openly loving any woman.

Felicity got a slow, appreciative stare as she showed the doorman their tickets, while Oliver gritted his teeth and pretended not to notice.

"Nice couples' costume. I get it," the bouncer said to Felicity, before nudging Oliver familiarly. "Hey, if the Arrow looked more like her I bet the cops would have gotten their hands on 'im a long time ago."

The man chuckled while Oliver turned and gave him a long, hard look. He swallowed and waved them through immediately.

Inside, the nightclub was almost pitch black and overcrowded. The party was already in full swing and everywhere Oliver looked people in outlandish costumes were pressed close to each other, drinking, dancing, and shouting above the music. Felicity grabbed his hand and began forcing her way through the crowd. He clung onto her, feeling suddenly protective as he saw her brush closely up against strange men, many of whom looked more than a little interested as she passed. When one guy in a leopard suit took the opportunity to run his hand along her side as she pushed by him, Oliver found his fist clenching automatically and he had to force himself not to punch the other man.

When Felicity stopped, running up against a group of women in cave girl outfits dancing in a large circle, Oliver closed the distance between them. He stood close behind her, almost enveloping her with his body, shielding her from the people around them. He knew he was overreacting a bit, but he didn't care. When the tight press of the crowd forced them even closer together he struggled not to focus on the sensation of her body pressed tightly against his, or the smell of her perfume mingling with her hair as it brushed against his face. He put his arms around her to steady them as people shoved past, and felt her lean into him, turning her face towards his neck. Her heels had added another four inches to her height, and he froze as he felt her breath against his skin when she spoke.

"We need to keep moving towards the back!" she shouted above the din of the music.

Oliver nodded, not bothering to try reply, and moved past her to lead the way. He kept a firm grip on Felicity's hand as he pushed through the crowd, his greater height and size causing people to make way for him easily. He barely noticed the flirtatious glances he drew, his gaze focused on a doorway leading towards the lower level of the club. Just as they reached it a slim arm snaked out to bar his way. His eyes travelled up it to meet the gaze of a pretty waitress, her French maid's costume offset by the tray of shot glasses she held. He looked at her questioningly and she smirked.

"The real party's down there!" she shouted. "But, you have to have one of these first!"

She thrust the tray of shot glasses towards him. Oliver smiled easily, reminding himself that he was supposed to be just another reveller, and plucked a glass from the tray. He downed it quickly, and instantly felt the front of his brain catch fire. He wasn't sure what it was, but it was strong. He went to move forward but the waitress touched him on the arm.

"You too!"

He turned to see her smiling at Felicity. Without so much as glancing at him, Felicity grabbed a glass and knocked it back. Oliver felt his mouth drop open, then found himself wondering why he was surprised. After a second he realised that Felicity was looking at him questioningly, obviously wondering what he was waiting for. He swallowed and moved on, leading her down a narrow set of steps.

The underground club was a fancy-dress rave. Strobe lights flashed on and off, further disorienting his alcohol-muddled mind. All around him bodies of strange shapes and sizes gyrated to the music. Some had already broken off into corners and dark alcoves, ignoring those around them. Pausing on the steps, Oliver glanced towards Felicity. She pointed towards the rear corner on the opposite side of the room. Oliver grimaced, already dreading making his way across the frenzied dance floor. He descended the steps and within seconds they were surrounded. Faces, masks, arms lunged at them from the crowd, the strobe lights and the pounding music lending a surreal urgency to every movement. To Oliver, every gesture seemed like an attack. He pulled Felicity towards him, holding her close against his chest, his left arm tight around her waist. Her hand came up to grip his, her fingers intertwining with his own. Her head rested against the side of his face, and he found himself turning towards her, almost nuzzling her. He told himself it was the alcohol when he felt her push back, her fingers tightening in his grip.

He began moving forward, holding her against him, simply because if he stayed there any longer he would end up doing something he would regret. But in some ways this was worse. He felt her moving against him with every step, could feel the tense and release of her muscles through her thin leather dress. At some point he realised that his thumb was rubbing tense little circles into the back of her hand, but he couldn't seem to stop.

By the time they reached the door to the offices, Oliver had noticed the two bouncers standing on either side. They looked bored and disinterested, but he knew that would change if either he or Felicity approached them. He leaned close to Felicity, his lips brushing her ear.

"I'm going to start a fight," he said.

Felicity jerked around to face him, eyes wide, just as a surge in the crowd pushed them together again, their faces dangerously close. Unbidden, his hands gripped her waist and pulled her closer, and he found his gaze travelling to her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips again. She was staring at him wide-eyed, her makeup making her pupils appear darker than usual, and he could feel her heart racing as it thumped against his chest. He watched in what seemed like slow motion as she anxiously bit her lip.

Blood pounding in his ears, Oliver turned and grabbed the nearest guy. It was that or grab Felicity and... he didn't let his mind go any further.

"You touched my girl!" he shouted, ignoring the poor guy's confused expression. He was about the same age as Oliver, dressed in an innocuous looking cowboy outfit, and Oliver felt a little bit guilty as he shoved him backward, right into a group of dancing couples. Not a few of the men turned around angrily, their dates yelping as they stumbled in high heels, spilled drinks soaking their costumes. The cowboy's friends jumped in to support him almost instantly, and it wasn't long before an all-out brawl was underway.

The two bouncers shoved past Oliver, ignoring him as they tried to reach the fight, having abandoned their post without a second glance. Oliver grabbed Felicity's hand and pulled her towards the doorway, which opened into a darkened corridor that was eerily quiet compared to the chaos outside.

"There should be an office on the left," Felicity whispered.

Oliver found the door easily, shouldering it open when he realised it was locked. They found themselves in what was obviously the manager's office, complete with filing cabinets, a heavy wooden desk, a safe, and a top-of-the-line high security door. Oliver flicked on a small desk lamp, and stepped back to let Felicity get to work turning off the security cameras in the back storeroom and unlocking the door.

"Wait," she giggled, tugging at her costume, and Oliver knew she was feeling the effects of her shot as much as he was. He grinned, and then stopped breathing when Felicity slipped the hood over her head, letting it fall forward to cast a dark shadow over the top half of her face. All he could see were her lips, and the faint glow of her eyes, shining in the shadows. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything sexier in his life.

"I need to be dressed properly to do this," she whispered theatrically, moving past him to reach the security door.

Oliver clenched his jaw. "Mhmm-hmm," was all he managed, before crossing to the office doorway to keep an eye on the corridor. Only a few moments passed before he heard the security door beep and swing open. He turned back to find Felicity grinning at him like a cat.

"Wow, this hood really works huh? I should wear it all the time, you know, when I'm doing my IT-girling, vigilante work, around the office..."

"Felicity!"

"What?"

Oliver hesitated. "We need to focus... there could be someone down there," he finished awkwardly.

"Oh right, got ya." She sketched a mock salute and stepped back to let him lead the way.

Oliver moved through the door cautiously, doing his best to push all thoughts of Felicity and his outfit (in various combinations) from his mind. He hadn't brought his bow, obviously, but Felicity had been confident that the storeroom itself wasn't patrolled. He had only said someone might be down there to get her to stop talking, because, for once, her babbling was legitimately driving him crazy, though not in any way she would suspect.

The storeroom really was empty, and they easily found crates of rifles stacked against the back wall. Oliver levered one open, and Felicity quickly grabbed some snapshots on her phone, which were instantly uploaded to the servers back in the base. Their job done, they silently made their way back to the office.

Once back inside the shadowy room, Felicity set about relocking the door while Oliver kept watch. She had been oddly quiet since they had entered the storeroom, other than the quietly exclaimed 'Jackpot!' when they found the rifles, and Oliver found himself watching her more than the corridor.

When he heard the door beep closed he moved towards her, forgetting that she had to reset the security cameras. She stood up and turned quickly, then took a step back, obviously surprised to see him so close. Her heel wobbled and she stumbled, her mouth making a little 'oh' of surprise, and Oliver caught her instinctively. Her hood fell back as her body arched against his, and suddenly Oliver was kissing her.

He pressed his lips against hers, hearing her gasp, and savoured the taste of her in his mouth. He held her tightly against him, turning her towards the desk, and felt her moan as his tongue slipped between her lips. And then she was kissing him back, her hands slipping inside his shirt as clung to him, her hips grinding against him as he pushed her against the desk. He kissed her with bruising force, his pulse thrumming as he felt her return his kiss with equal passion. He picked her up and lifted her onto the desk, her legs parting as he stepped between them...

...and then someone's hand was on his shoulder.

"Hey! I said, 'you two can't be in here'."

Oliver turned to find one of the doormen standing behind him, an exasperated look on his face. Part of him was stunned that he had been so consumed with Felicity he hadn't even heard the man approach, but mostly he was furious at being interrupted. Without thinking he punched the doorman squarely in the face, knocking him out cold.

He turned to find Felicity staring at him, tears in her eyes.

"Felicity?" he asked in confusion, the look on her face telling him that something was terribly wrong.

She pushed past him without a word, disappearing out into the hallway. Oliver chased after her, following her small dark shape as she forced her way through the crowded nightclub and towards the exit. He finally caught up with her on the street outside the club, grabbing her arm and turning her towards him.

"Felicity? What...?"

He stopped when he saw her face, her eyes still red and makeup streaky from where her tears had overflowed. He stared at her, speechless.

"Sorry," she said shakily, clearly struggling for calm. "I just had to get out of there, you know? It all just got to me for a second. I mean, you knew he was there, right? That's why you... I mean, what's a fake kiss after a fake 'I love you'? Nothing we can't handle. Such a cliché though, I really thought you had more imagination."

She gave a half laugh and stuttered to a halt, turning her face away. Oliver could see her hands shaking. He reached towards her, and felt a stabbing feeling in his gut as she stepped back, increasing the distance between them. She stuck her arm out, an almost desperate gesture, and a passing cab pulled over immediately.

"I'm going home. I'm tired. The pictures are on the server, I'll send them to Laurel tomorrow. Goodnight Oliver." She said everything in a rush, still not looking at him, and then suddenly she was inside the taxi and it was pulling away.

Oliver stared after Felicity, the taste of her still on his lips. His heart ached when the cab disappeared around the corner and he realised she hadn't looked back once.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver woke from a dream about Felicity. They had been standing on the beach on Lian Yu, and she had asked him if he meant it, when he said he loved her. In his dream he had smiled at her, just like he had smiled all those months ago, but this time he had answered.

"Yes. I meant it."

He had placed his hand on her face, cupping her cheek and feeling her smile as she leaned into his touch.

"I love you, Felicity Smoak."

And then he had kissed her, standing there on the beach of what had once been his purgatory, and it seemed like for that moment the sun shone brighter and everything in his world had fallen into place.

It wasn't the first time he had had that dream. That moment on the beach lingered in his mind, and even in his waking moments he wondered what would have happened if he had simply told her the truth. And then, inevitably, he would remind himself that Felicity would always be better off without him, and promise himself over and over again that he would never, ever act on his feelings for her.

But this morning he woke up to the memory of another, very different kiss, a real one that should never have happened. Even as he cursed himself for his stupidity he felt his body respond to the memory of her crushed against his chest, her legs parting for him as she moaned into his mouth. He imagined himself slipping his hands beneath her skirt, kneading her thighs, moving his fingers higher. He saw his mouth slipping down her neck, kissing her chest, tasting the tops of her breasts.

Oliver groaned and set up in bed, holding his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? One drink and all of his resolutions and promises had been forgotten. He thought of Slade, his sword pressed against Felicity's throat. He forced himself to think of Laurel, Sara, Shado, Helena, even McKenna, all of the women who had been tainted, hurt, and damaged by their involvement with him. He hated himself for crossing that line with Felicity, and then he hated himself even more for wanting to do it again.

Shoving the sheets back and rolling from the bed, Oliver rummaged in the pile of last night's clothes to find his phone. He checked it anxiously and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment when he saw Felicity had neither messaged nor called him. What would he say to her if she did? What would she say? He wondered how she was feeling right now, and cursed himself again when he remembered the last time he saw her, the tears still shining in her eyes.

Oliver stood in the shower in the bathroom of his small, rented apartment for a long time, unwilling to get out and face himself in the mirror. Instead, images of Felicity flashed through his mind. He was haunted by the memory of her standing on the sidewalk, the look of betrayal so out of place on her beautiful, innocent features. It hurt that she thought he would treat her that way – that she did not somehow understand how much he really cared for her. He knew that it was better she didn't, but some part of him still wished that she could see herself as he did, that she could realize how cherished and loved she really was.

Oliver grimaced. He knew it could never be him who made her feel that way. He punched the bathroom wall in frustration, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through his hand. He had to fix this. By the time the shower ran cold he thought he knew how.

* * *

When he reached the entrance to the secondary base Oliver hesitated, apprehension, indecision, and guilt coursing through him. He frowned, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath, and prepared himself to deal with whatever came next. Opening the security door and stepping inside, he was surprised to find Felicity sitting serenely at her desk, her back to him.

The new lair had been fitted out much like the old one, and they had salvaged whatever equipment they could from the remains of the Foundry. Lyla had even managed to get them a few sophisticated computers from ARGUS, which now took pride of place on Felicity's desk. They were all up and running, lines of code flashing across multiple screens, and Oliver wondered if Felicity was simply too engrossed in her work to notice his arrival.

The other occupant of the lair had definitely seen him. Diggle was off to one side, perched on a table and studiously sharpening a small fighting knife. His eyes were on the door as always, and he glanced at Oliver, lifting his chin in greeting. Oliver hesitated for a moment, looking from Digg to Felicity, who still had her back to him. He realised he was rubbing the fingers of his right hand together.

"Hey," he said carefully, hating how tentative it sounded. He saw Diggle's eyes narrow, especially when Felicity continued working and did not so much as glance in his direction. Oliver sighed and moved to drop his bag in the corner. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this was definitely not it. The silence stretched.

"So," Diggle said with an air of slightly forced casualness, "Felicity sent the pictures to Laurel this morning..."

He glanced at the girl in question, obviously expecting her to take over. When she paid him no attention and kept working, he turned his attention back to Oliver.

"...and, Detective Lance and the rest of the SAPD should be raiding the Q Club later this evening."

He folded his arms, cocked his head to one side, and gave Oliver a small smile.

"So, I take it everything went well last night?"

Oliver's jaw tightened, and he couldn't help it when his eyes darted back to Felicity, who was still maddeningly absorbed in her computers. From what he could tell, she looked perfectly fine. Her makeup was pristine, not a hair was out of place, and she even seemed to be wearing a new outfit. He found himself wondering if he had imagined her tears.

"Oliver?"

He realised Diggle was still looking at him, and that he still hadn't replied. He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows in his best imitation of innocence.

"Sorry, what was that?"

Diggle gave him a long look and then nodded knowingly, as if confirming something.

"O-kay, moving on..." He sighed deeply. "Maybe we should go have a look, make sure the police don't have any unexpected trouble when they pay our favourite, gun-running nightclub owner a visit."

Felicity sniffed, breaking her silence. "Oh, I'd be careful with that plan if I were you, John. If any guards sneak up on you unexpectedly, there's no telling what Oliver could do. You might be in for a _bit_ of a surprise."

She still hadn't looked around from her monitors. Oliver grimaced, while Diggle looked from him to Felicity, his entire expression a question.

"Alright, somebody want to tell me what I'm missing here?"

Choosing to ignore Felicity's comment, Oliver gave Diggle his best fake smile and moved towards his bow case.

"Nothing. That sounds like a good idea. I'll get dressed." He crossed to the bathroom to change, almost but not quite fleeing the room.

When he came back, his green leather jacket and hood serving only to further fire his memories of Felicity from last night, he found Diggle and Felicity talking quietly, their voices barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure about this?" he heard his former bodyguard ask, concern evident in his tone.

"Yes." Felicity answered, "I'll tell Oliver later."

"Tell me what?" Oliver asked, speaking before he had time to think. He could feel the apprehension growing in the pit of his stomach. When Felicity didn't reply, resolutely keeping her back towards him, Diggle rolled his eyes, gave Oliver his third meaningful look of the day, and answered for her.

"Felicity is taking some time off. " He folded his arms. "No particular reason."

Oliver started forward, every muscle in his body tense. He was done with her ignoring him.

"Felicity!"

She turned very slowly in her chair, and the look she gave him when she finally met his gaze froze him in place. Oliver had expected her to be upset, or maybe even embarrassed, but for some reason he had not expected her to be angry.

"Like John just said, I am taking some time off Oliver. I'll finish a few things here and then go home. You won't need me tonight anyway." There was a tight coolness to her tone, but her eyes were blazing with all of the things she hadn't said.

"Felicity..." Oliver shut his eyes for a second, choosing his words with care, "if this is about last night..."

She stood up carefully, keeping her distance, her eyes flicking to the side as she avoided looking at him.

"Last night was... it gave me some perspective. This, what we do here," she gestured at the lair, "it's important and it's right and it's good for the city..." her voice faltered slightly, "but it's taking over my entire life and I need to take a step back."

Her conviction returned as she voiced the last phrase, and Oliver wondered how many times she had rehearsed it in her mind.

"Felicity, I..." he glanced towards Diggle, who was watching them silently, "we, need you."

Felicity laughed humourlessly and strode towards him across the floor, her tone suddenly ringing with anger.

"Oh I know you _need _me Oliver. You need me for lots of things. Just like you need your bow, and your arrows, and every other piece of equipment you have lying around here! Everything that you need, sitting here obediently, ready for you to _use_."

Her voice cracked a little on the last word, and Oliver felt his heart ache in response. It must have shown on his face because her expression softened as she came even closer, her clear, blue eyes searching his. Her voice dropped, radiating layers of hurt.

"You _used_ me, Oliver. That's not ok."

He could see her staring at him, looking into his soul, trying to find something that would help her keep his faith in him, in _them_, in whatever it was that they had together. But he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't let her think that there was any chance, any hope for them. Not in the way he knew she wanted. Oliver took a breath, steadying himself, already knowing that this was another moment he would play out over and over again in his mind. But he had no choice. He couldn't be with her, no matter how much he wanted it, and he had to fix this.

"You're right. I shouldn't have kissed you. We were in a club, I had a drink, I wasn't thinking straight."

His eyes drifted from hers, resting on the ceiling, the floor, anywhere else, but he forced himself to look at her again. The expression on her face almost made him falter. Almost. He shrugged.

"Old habits, I guess."

He wanted to reach for her, to kiss her and hold her, and tell her over and over again that everything that had happened last night had been because he loved her. Instead, he made himself stand there and watch her heart break. But what she said next surprised him.

"No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to be 'playboy Ollie' with me. Tell me the truth, Oliver."

He hadn't lied to her, but the half-truth was enough to give him away. He shut his eyes for a moment, and then reached out to grip her arms, holding her gaze firmly.

"Felicity. I am sorry that I kissed you. It was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened. I crossed a line and I promise you that it will never happen again."

That, at least, was true. He watched her eyes glaze over, her expression shut down as she froze it in place, giving nothing away. She stepped back from him, breaking his grip, and it was all he could do to stop himself from following her.

"Thank you," she said hollowly. "That was all I needed to hear."

She turned away, picked up her jacket and bag, and then walked past him without another word. Her heels clicked loudly up the concrete steps, and moments later the security door snapped firmly shut.


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you doing, man?"

Diggle's voice resonated loudly in the silence that filled the lair in Felicity's absence. Oliver was still staring at the door, feeling the searing loss of her for the second time in twenty-four hours. He turned away, resting his hands on a nearby table. A deep sigh escaped him and even that hurt. He felt... hollow.

"I'm doing what's best for her," he said quietly, his voice strained.

Diggle snorted. "Well excuse me if I have a hard time seeing what part of _that_ was good for her."

Oliver rounded on him, suddenly furious. "The part where she isn't with me, Diggle! The part where she's safe!"

His partner stood up from the table he had been leaning against, uncrossing his arms and closing the distance between them. Oliver realised abruptly that he wasn't the only one who was angry.

"Look, Oliver," Diggle said, striding forwards, "when it comes to women, I'm fine with you messing up your own life, making bad decisions, and hurting yourself, but I am _not_ going to stand by and watch you do that to her." He gestured towards the doorway through which Felicity had just left. "This is Felicity we're talking about! She has so much faith in you, Oliver, so much trust. Are you really going to destroy that?"

Oliver squared up to the bigger man, his voice rising in anger. "I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe, Diggle! Whatever it takes!"

The other man sighed, shaking his head, and when he met Oliver's gaze again he was more exasperated than angry. "Safe from what? She's already in this. She takes the same risks we do. What are you protecting her from?"

Oliver turned away, unable to look his partner in the eye, and sat down heavily on a nearby chair. He rested his arms on his knees, burying his face in his hands, but even that couldn't block out the memory of Felicity's expression as she left the lair. As she left him. Finally he spoke, struggling to contain the emotion in his voice.

"I'm protecting her from me. Everyone who is close to me gets hurt. _Everyone._ Ever since we took down Slade, I have been telling myself over and over again to send her away, to somehow get her to leave. But I couldn't do it, not until today." He shook his head, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't even mean to do it then."

He let his head hang, suddenly overcome with weariness. He hadn't realised how much this had been weighing on him, not just that day, but from the moment he had looked in Felicity's eyes that night in the mansion and realised how much he really loved her. The moment when, for the first time, he had finally understood everything that it meant to love someone and everything that that could mean, for both of them. He remembered it vividly, when he had held her gaze and asked her, _'Do you understand?',_ his voice conveying all of the things he could never say. And he remembered her answer, _'Yes'_.

Oliver closed his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. "I can't be without her Diggle, but I can't be with her either. I won't see her get hurt because of me."

His friend sighed. "So you're hurting her so she doesn't get hurt?"

"That's not how it is!" Oliver snapped. "I don't expect you to understand."

He heard Diggle moving closer, coming to stand in front of him.

"Oliver, look at me."

Reluctantly he met the older man's gaze, expecting to be met with frustration or anger. Instead, he saw only compassion.

"Are you really going to sit there and tell me I don't understand what you're going through? My wife is _pregnant_." Diggle shook his head in disbelief, but the corner of his mouth twisted in a small smile. "I'm going to be a father. And you know what? I live with the fear every day, every single day, that something will happen to her. Or that something will happen to me and she will be left on her own. Or, God forbid, that something will happen to our child. I know that you're scared, Oliver. I'm scared too, doing what we do. But don't expect me to believe that the best thing I could do for my family is to cut them out of my life. Don't tell me that that would somehow be best for Lyla, and best for our child."

His tone softened. "And don't tell me that that's best for Felicity."

Oliver leaned back in his chair, releasing a deep breath he had not realised he had been holding. Although he was reluctant, or maybe scared, to admit it, he knew there was sense in his partner's words. And he could feel himself beginning to hope.

"I don't know what to do." He didn't mean for it to sound like a question, but the question was there all the same.

"Well, what does Felicity think about all this?"

Oliver opened his mouth to respond but hesitated, his brow furrowing.

Diggle smiled knowingly, cocking his head to one side. "Or haven't you asked her?"

They were interrupted by a single, loud beep from one of the computers. Oliver glanced towards it, just as three more beeps sounded in quick succession. Within seconds, alerts were flashing across the monitors and multiple alarms were sounding, filling the lair with noise. Oliver started across the room even as Diggle slid into Felicity's chair and started rapidly pressing buttons.

"What's going on?" Oliver asked, barely able to follow the notifications flashing up on the various screens.

"I'm not sure," Diggle responded, struggling to get the alarms under control. "We need Felicity to get back here."

Oliver's phone was in his hand instantly, but he found himself hesitating. Diggle spared a second to look up from the monitors.

"Oliver. Call Felicity." His tone brooked no argument.

Oliver took a quick breath and activated his speed dial. Weighted seconds passed as he listened to the phone ringing in his ear, barely audible above the sounds of the alarms in the background. Then the room was abruptly silent. He heard Diggle swear behind him.

"You need to see this."

Oliver turned to see a copy of Felicity's driver's licence on the screen, complete with her ID picture and address. Diggle turned to face him, concern etched on his face.

"I think our gunrunners found Felicity."

At the same moment, a female voice sounded cheerfully in Oliver's ear. "_Hi, you've reached Felicity Smoak. I can't take your call right now so leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you. Or, maybe not. I might forget. But I'll definitely try to get back to you. Probably try, I mean."_

Oliver was out the door and on his motorbike before Felicity's answering machine had got to the beep. He sped out into the evening traffic, racing across town towards her house. Diggle's voice sounded in his ear, tense but calm.

"From what I know about Felicity's setup, she should have gotten those alerts on her phone as well."

"She's not answering her phone, Digg," Oliver grunted in response. "They could already have her."

"Maybe not," came the reply. "As far as I can tell, it looks like the alerts were set up to notify her if anyone back-traced some of her dummy credit cards to her real account. It's a real time notification, so they got the information the same time we did."

Oliver swerved to avoid a delivery truck that had stopped in front of him, ran a red light, and turned the wrong way up a busy one-way street, ignoring the furious honks from the lines of frustrated drivers.

"Wait, her real account?" Understanding dawned. "The tickets."

"Yep."

For a moment Oliver was speechless. He hadn't realised that Felicity had been spending her own money to fund their activities, even partially. Still not used to focussing on finances, he hadn't even thought to ask how she had gotten the tickets for the event at the nightclub. Diggle cut in as if hearing his thoughts.

"Felicity knows you're not as... comfortable... as you were, financially. She didn't want to add any extra pressure."

Oliver didn't answer, an overwhelming sense of love for his beautiful, selfless partner rendering him speechless.

He didn't deserve her.

He would never deserve her.

But he was going to protect her.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time he reached Felicity's street, Oliver's blood was pounding in his ears and his fingers were clutching the handlebars of his bike in a death grip. He forced himself not to imagine all of the different ways she could be hurt or suffering at that very moment, even as he sped along the row of brownstone houses with their neat, well-kept gardens.

The evening had darkened considerably since he left the lair and most of the homes along the street were lit up brightly, but when he finally laid eyes on Felicity's house everything was ominously dark. A cold feeling settled in his gut, which only intensified when he saw the blacked-out van parked in front of her driveway.

"Digg, they're already here," he breathed into his comm unit, his throat rough with apprehension.

"I'm right behind you," came the terse reply.

Oliver was off his bike and through Felicity's door in a second, noticing the broken lock even as he raced into the house, bow drawn and arrow nocked. He moved silently through the vacant living room, his heart thumping louder with every step. The whole house was deathly quiet. He reached the empty kitchen and found a still steaming mug of coffee and an open laptop left unattended on the table. The back door was open, swinging gently in the evening breeze. He was through it and into the back yard like a ghost, just in time to see a large man in black clambering over the rear fence and dropping out of sight. Knowing it was too late to put an arrow in him Oliver cursed and sprinted across the yard, vaulting the barrier easily to land in the back garden of the neighbouring home. He caught sight of the man again, running towards the corner of the house, and a second dark shape in front of him already disappearing out of sight.

He drew and put an arrow in the first pursuer's leg, dropping him to the ground. The man yelled and struggled to get up, just as Oliver reached him. He clubbed the guy across the head with his bow, knocked him out, and continued running without sparing him a second glance. He had to find Felicity. Every second he couldn't see her was making him more frantic, even as years of training channelled his emotions into his body, driving him tirelessly forwards.

Oliver rounded the corner of the house at full speed and raced towards the narrow street, avoiding gardening tools and toys strewn across the lawn. A flash of blond hair under a streetlight caught his eye and then he saw her. She was on the other side of the road, her back towards him, the second man close behind her. An intense fury gripped him as he realised she was limping, even as he paused to launch a second arrow straight into her pursuer's shoulder. The man yelped and swore, turning awkwardly to face Oliver.

Felicity turned at the same time, the light falling across her face as she looked behind her. Oliver saw her eyes widen as they met his, a rush of emotions chasing the fear and pain from her face. He thought he saw her say his name. And then the other man was on him, swinging wildly despite his injured shoulder. Oliver landed an easy blow and was already launching a second when bright lights suddenly sliced across the roadway.

He heard Felicity call him and instinctively rolled to the side, just as the black van skidded to a stop alongside him. A door opened and the injured man clambered in, gunshots slamming into the vehicle's side as it pulled away. The van sped off and Oliver was instantly on his feet, hurrying towards Felicity. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Diggle emerge from the garden of the house behind him, gun drawn and ready as he scanned their surroundings.

Oliver stopped awkwardly in front of Felicity, desperately wanting to touch her but unsure how she would respond.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his tone gentle. "You're limping. Did they hurt you?"

Felicity shifted uncomfortably, keeping her distance and folding her arms across her body in an almost defensive manner. "I fell getting over the fence. I would have gotten away otherwise. I have security cameras on the house and I saw the alerts on my laptop when I got back."

Oliver felt himself smile, feeling a now familiar sensation of pride. He wanted to ask why she didn't answer her phone, but was afraid he knew the answer. But still, even that didn't explain why she hadn't gotten the alerts until she got home. He frowned, knowing something was off, but didn't want to push things by asking. She was safe now, and that was all that mattered.

Diggle crossed the street towards them, shooting Felicity a reassuring smile. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks John," she replied, answering his smile with her own. Oliver felt his heart clench at the warmth in her tone, and the marked difference in her attitude towards the other man. He found he couldn't take his eyes from her face, as if needing to make sure that she was really there and he hadn't lost her.

"I have the first guy you downed," Diggle said, turning towards him, "and Detective Lance and the SCPD are on their way." Oliver nodded.

"You shouldn't be here when they arrive," he said softly, moving closer to Felicity.

She looked from him to Diggle in confusion. "Why not?"

"Dangerous people are after you, Felicity. We need to get you somewhere safe. You can fill Detective Lance in later, but right now we have to get you off this street and out of sight."

He could already see people beginning to poke their heads out of doorways, alerted by the gunshots. He saw Felicity accept the sense of his words, her brow furrowing. "I have some friends I can stay with."

"Not a chance." Oliver didn't even think before he spoke. All he knew was that there was no way he was letting her out of his sight. "You're coming home with me."

Felicity's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest. Out of the corner of his eye Oliver saw Diggle tense. But then the other man surprised him.

"He's right, Felicity. We don't know how much they know about you yet. And even if they do somehow link you to Oliver, nobody knows where he lives now."

He glanced at Oliver. "You got that apartment under a fake name right? To avoid attention from the media? And you're paying for it with some of your old ARGUS accounts?"

Oliver nodded, his eyes still fixed on Felicity's face. Diggle placed a hand on the girl's arm, his tone reassuring.

"He can take care of you, Felicity. You're safer there than anywhere else."

Oliver watched her hesitate and then, finally, nod. "Ok, good," he said, trying to conceal the conflicting emotions surging through him. He glanced at Felicity's injured leg. "You guys stay here, I'll grab my bike and come back before the SCPD arrive."

He flashed Digg a look of gratitude as he moved past him but received a warning glance in return. "Be careful," Diggle muttered under his breath, and Oliver knew exactly what he meant.


	5. Chapter 5

Oliver drove more carefully than usual, keenly aware of Felicity's presence behind him. He had never taken her on his motorcycle before, and as soon as she climbed on behind him he understood his previous reluctance. The sheer closeness of her took his breath away. Her small hands clutching his waist through the leather of his suit sent tiny shivers through his body, and the sensation of her chest pressed against his back made his breath catch. Every so often, when he took a turn or passed a vehicle, her leg brushed lightly against his thigh, and every time his heart missed a beat.

It was full night by now and he turned toward the edges of the city, avoiding traffic and people. Most of the buildings here were dark – old, empty warehouses or abandoned tenements. Nearby, there were apartment buildings and offices, but here there was only emptiness and the deep shadows cast by the pale streetlights. Oliver had come to realise that he felt most comfortable in this part of the city, sheltered by the darkness, close enough to observe the people of Starling while still keeping himself at a safe distance. Lately, since his mother had been killed and his sister had left, he had developed the habit of going out alone at night simply to observe the city darkness. It seemed to help him accept his isolation, his otherness, and it reminded him why he had to do the things he did.

It felt different, having Felicity here with him, but it didn't feel strange. Instead, it was strangely intimate, as if he were revealing another part of himself to her – one that was usually kept for him only. At some point he began to notice that tonight the darkness seemed less oppressive somehow, and that her being there made him feel less disconnected, less alone.

They had not spoken since they had left her neighbourhood but the silence between them was comfortable, as if she were enjoying the night calmness as much as him. When they reached a long, open stretch of road Oliver sped up a little, just to feel the wind on his skin. That was something else he liked to do sometimes, to let the night air wash over his face like some old-fashioned ritual of purification. He felt Felicity stir behind him, and wondered if she, too, was turning her face into the breeze.

All too soon they reached his building. Oliver turned into a dark, almost windowless alley, stopping beneath a rusty fire escape. He instantly missed the feel of Felicity against him when she slipped off the bike, and felt it keenly as he moved away from her to lock it into a small, private shed. The only windows opening onto the alleyway belonged to his apartment, two stories up, and he saw Felicity eyeing the fire escape, her injured leg held awkwardly to one side. He moved to stand close in front of her and saw her swallow, her eyes travelling slowly across his face. Knowing the she could not see his expression beneath his hood, he picked her up without a word, and her small gasp stirred something deep within him that he wished he could ignore.

To his surprise, she didn't protest, and he realised that she felt the perfect peace and intimacy of that moment too. As he mounted the first step, she wrapped one arm around his neck and rested her other hand on his chest, and Oliver wondered if she felt his heart beat faster. He carried her up the two flights of stairs easily, to the window of his apartment, and when he got there he wished it was farther. But then he helped her through the window, and they were back in the world again.

* * *

Oliver helped Felicity through the window of his apartment, careful to avoid bumping her injured leg. She leaned heavily on him as they moved towards his small two-seater leather couch and sighed with relief when they finally reached it. She was still wearing the same clothes from earlier that day, and, considering the heels that she had on, Oliver wasn't surprised that she had fallen.

He watched her look around his tiny one-room apartment and found himself doing the same, trying to see it through her eyes. It was a far cry from his former accommodation at the Queen mansion. In fact, Oliver was almost certain his bedroom had been bigger than this entire apartment. He saw Felicity take in the small kitchenette that took up one end of the room, and then the tiny living area in the centre of the apartment, containing the couch and a cheap, flimsy coffee table. Her eyes lingered on the bed at the other end of the room for a moment and he saw her cheeks flush. He wondered what she was thinking, but then she turned back to find him watching her and he quickly looked away.

"I need to have a look at your leg," Oliver said abruptly, aware that those were the first words he had spoken to her since they had left her house.

Felicity hesitated for a second, her blush deepening, and then nodded. "Ok, please. Thank you, I mean."

Oliver bit back a sigh, hating how this was suddenly awkward for them and thinking of all the times she had casually treated his many injuries. He knew that the tension between them was entirely his fault. He waited while she stretched out along the couch, making herself as comfortable as possible with his few cushions, and then, kneeling beside her, gently eased off her shoe. Oliver's jaw clenched when he saw her swollen ankle, and anger surged within him once more. He found himself wishing he had had more time with the two men who had broken into Felicity's house. Unconsciously, his hand reached out to stroke her ankle, as if to take away a little of her pain, and he heard her gasp. When he glanced at her he saw that she was biting her lip, her eyes hooded.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," he murmured. He ran his hands along her leg from her knee to her foot, checking for broken bones, and heard her breathing deepen in response. He turned to check on her and found her staring at him, a strange expression on her face. She swallowed and quickly looked away.

"I need to move your ankle, to check it's not dislocated," Oliver told her, his tone gentle. "This will hurt, but I need to know, ok?"

Felicity nodded. Hating himself for hurting her, Oliver placed one hand on her calf and the other on the base of her foot, and then cautiously manipulated the joint. He felt her tense as her breathing became more strained but she didn't make a sound. Instead, her hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing tightly. When he turned back to her, her eyes were clamped shut and her face was twisted in pain. Before he could stop himself Oliver was leaning over her, brushing her cheek with his fingertips, his other hand running through her hair.

"Hey, hey, it's over now," he whispered, still stroking her face.

She opened her eyes to meet his gaze, and his breath caught when he saw her unshed tears. Oliver looked into her face, and all he could think about was how much he loved her and how much it hurt to see her in pain. A sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the furrows on her brow seized him, so he forced himself backwards instead, getting to his feet abruptly.

"There's nothing broken or out of place," he said gruffly, turning away to hide his expression. "It's just a mild sprain. I'll get you some painkillers."

Oliver went into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror for the length of time it took to get his control back. He knew that he needed to think, to figure out what to do before he ended up doing something reckless and making everything worse. Instead, he grabbed the pills from the medicine cabinet and came back to find Felicity lying on the couch, eyes closed and face pale. He passed her the pills and a glass of water, careful to keep his distance, and studied her as she took them.

"Have you eaten today?" he asked finally.

"No," she responded, her voice radiating exhaustion. "I was about to get something at home but..."

"Ok." He tried to sound as casual as possible, taking refuge in his practised 'Oliver Queen CEO' persona. "Well, if you'd like to take a shower, I can get some fresh clothes out for you, and then we can have dinner."

After a second's hesitation, Felicity nodded. "That sounds good, thanks."

Oliver moved to help her off the couch and towards the bathroom, but was mildly relieved when she refused his help. He didn't fully trust himself to be close to her just then. Leaving a t-shirt and shorts on the bed for her, he quickly changed out of his Arrow suit before crossing to the kitchen. He tried not to think about Felicity in his shower and focused instead on preparing dinner. As he chopped and sliced the vegetables and meat, an unfamiliar sense of contentment slowly settled on him. After a while, Oliver realised that he was smiling despite the tension that still lingered between them.

He knew that at some point they would have to talk, and he still didn't know what he wanted to say, but he was mildly stunned at how things suddenly seemed... right. Maybe it was because of his conversation with Diggle earlier, but it felt like something had finally clicked into place, with Felicity here in his home, with him cooking for her at the end of a long day. He wondered why they had never done something like this before, given their closeness. For the first time, Oliver let himself imagine taking that final step with Felicity, fully giving in to his feelings and simply being with her. He pictured himself coming home to this every night and was filled with a sense of optimism and contentment that he hadn't felt since before the island.

Oliver shook his head, telling himself to be careful, to slow down. That had always been his problem, rushing headlong and recklessly into relationships. All but his most recent, with Sara, had ended badly. He thought of his attempts since arriving home in Starling City. Each had been wrong in different ways, and each had finished with the woman in question stepping back and ending things between them. Each time it had hurt and each time had felt like another reminder of how broken he was, how inadequate, how he couldn't seem to give any woman what she needed. At best, he ended up not being good enough, at worst, they ended up getting hurt. Even Sara, who was one of the few people to really know him, had ultimately left him. She had blamed herself, but Oliver sometimes thought that maybe, if he had given her more or if he had been better somehow, maybe she might have stayed.

He imagined Felicity stepping back from him, telling him that things weren't working out, that he was wrong for her in some way. Even thinking about it physically hurt. He knew that if that happened it would be the end of them. Oliver already knew he couldn't lose her. Given his past failures, could he really risk what they had by trying to be in a relationship with her?

The bathroom door opened and Oliver turned to see Felicity coming back into the room, wrapped in a towel. She glanced at him self-consciously and he quickly looked away, turning his back as she changed into the clothes he had left out for her.

"That smells amazing," he heard her say after a few minutes. Judging it safe to turn around, he couldn't keep the smile from his face when he saw her standing near the couch, his overlarge t-shirt falling to her knees like a dress. The neck was too wide across her shoulders, revealing her collarbones, and his eye was drawn to the small droplets of water still beaded on her skin. Again, he was struck by how right it seemed, how naturally intimate, seeing her standing there in his oversized clothes.

"It's a recipe I picked up in Hong Kong," Oliver answered easily, "by the way, I have a gift for you." He saw the slight wariness in her reaction and cringed inside. Outwardly he kept the same cheerful expression, crossing to his bag and pulling out a laptop.

"My laptop? You brought it from my house?"

He almost laughed at the delight on her face. Most other girls would have asked him why he didn't think to grab any clothes for her, or at least a toothbrush.

"I thought you might want to have a look at the alerts from earlier."

He helped her prop her leg on some towels on the coffee table, brought her ice packs from the freezer, and then went back to finishing the meal. Every so often he would look over to see her staring at her computer screen and muttering to herself, and found himself biting his lip to keep from smiling, afraid she would turn and see him grinning at her like a love-sick fool. Despite his fears, he hadn't realised until now how much he wanted this with her.

When dinner was ready he squeezed in beside her on the small couch, conscious of not touching her, and passed her a plate. They ate in companionable silence, Felicity sometimes asking him about spices and ingredients and Oliver answering her as best he could. He realised he didn't even know if she liked to cook and found himself wondering if she had been right earlier, when she accused him of using her. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he checked it to find a short message from Diggle. He glanced at Felicity, reluctant to disturb their peaceful equilibrium by bringing up 'work' matters.

"Diggle says that the police are questioning the guy from your place," he said finally, "but at the moment they're getting nothing. They went to the nightclub, but the weapons are gone from the storeroom."

"I thought as much," Felicity replied, her tone flat. He noticed she was avoiding his gaze. "I dropped a small tracker into the weapons case last night, but it's been deactivated or else it's being shielded somehow."

She adjusted her glasses, still staring at her plate. "If it activates it will send a notification to your phone." She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Oliver."

His jaw dropped open, her words catching him by surprise.

"For what?" He knew he sounded as shocked as he felt.

"This is my fault. I thought I covered my tracks properly, but those weapons are coming from military suppliers and I should have known that they would have the technology to hack my accounts..."

"Felicity." Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder. "I was the one who knocked out that security guard and tipped them off." He hurried on quickly before either of them could focus on that moment or what they had been doing. "Why were you using your own money?"

She bit her lip, looking suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't want to bother you about the money for the tickets. It was only a small amount anyway, nothing really major." She touched her glasses again, shifting uncomfortably.

Oliver hesitated, knowing that he couldn't put this off any longer. He didn't even know how to begin. "Today," he managed finally, "the things that I said..."

Felicity stood up abruptly, wincing as her leg protested, and was already moving toward the bathroom before Oliver could react.

"I think I'll get some sleep," she said stiffly.

Oliver stood up to follow her and then stopped, ending up standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Felicity, please."

"Oliver, believe me, you were perfectly clear today," she answered, her voice trembling slightly. She did not turn around. "There's no point going over it again and just complicating things."

Her tone sounded slightly forced, the voice she used when she was angry or hurt and trying to hide it, but before Oliver could say anything else she was closing the bathroom door behind her. He dropped onto the couch, burying his head in his hands.

By the time Felicity came back into the room he was ready. Oliver waited until she was under the covers and sitting up in his bed before crossing towards her. He saw her eye him nervously as he sat down on the edge of the bed, her brow furrowed and cheeks slightly flushed.

"Felicity," he began, and was surprised to hear his own voice shaking. He steadied himself with a breath. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

She opened her mouth to protest and he touched her arm. "I'm sorry that you think I don't appreciate everything that you do, or that you think I am taking you for granted. I have never used you." He held her gaze intently. "I could never do that to you."

"But..." he could see the confusion and hurt in her eyes. "...the nightclub..." She bit her lip as if regretting mentioning it, closing her eyes and shaking her head stiffly.

"Hey," he waited until she met his gaze again. "I would never use you." He took a breath. "I didn't know he was there."

Oliver looked at her meaningfully, putting his heart and soul into his eyes, waiting for her to understand.

"But..."

He saw her begin to argue, and then her eyes widened in shock. She shook her head, frowning in disbelief, but at the same time a slow, uncertain smile began to spread across her face. Oliver glanced away from her quickly, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, struggling with an almost overpowering urge to kiss her. He had to keep control, to make sure he didn't push things beyond repair.

"Sorry, I'm no good at this." He shut his eyes for a moment, steadied himself, and then turned to face her again. "Do you remember when you told me about Thea? About my mother and..."

"And Malcolm Merlyn." He could see the slight confusion on her face at the sudden change in direction. "Yes, I remember."

"You told me about your father leaving," he hesitated when he saw her flinch and reached out to take her hand, "and you said that you couldn't lose someone that important to you again." He paused, looking at her hand in his, hoping he could make her fully understand and believe everything that he was saying. He suddenly realised that he was caressing her fingers.

"I'm no good at this," he said again, but this time he wasn't just talking about apologies, "no matter what I do, and no matter how hard I try, I keep making things worse and I keep hurting people. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to ruin things between us." He looked into her eyes again. "Felicity, you're the most important person in my life, and I can't risk losing you."

He saw her gasp, her eyes searching his. He willed her to believe him, to understand that he needed time to sort things out, to get himself together, so that he could finally be the person she deserved.

"Do you understand?"

She looked away for a second, and he thought she was going to argue, but when she looked back her face was creased in a small, shy smile.

"Yes, I understand," she said finally. Oliver thought he detected a faint hint of stubbornness in her eyes, as if she didn't fully agree with him but was choosing not to press the issue for now. He watched her hesitate, chewing on her lip.

"I don't know what you mean about not being good at this, though." She cocked her head to one side. "I mean, last night a kiss, tonight I'm in your bed, some people would say you're doing pretty well for yourself."

Oliver's mouth dropped open. It took him a second to catch the sparkle in her eye and realise that she was joking. When he did, he was so relieved that things were ok with them again that he threw his head back and laughed aloud. He opened his eyes to see her staring at him, a strange look on her face. She reached out and gently touched his cheek with her fingertips.

"I never hear you laugh," she said wistfully. "I like it."

Oliver froze, feeling Felicity's fingers feather-light against his skin, and he fought to stop himself from turning and kissing her palm. He was suddenly vividly aware of the bed, and the fact that his hand was still stroking her fingers. He could feeling his breathing deepening, and found his eyes roaming across her face. Felicity was as still as he was, her pupils dark and her mouth slightly open, her eyes locked on his. She took a shallow breath and slowly licked her lips. His hand tightened on hers. And then he shut his eyes and turned away, forcibly shattering the connection between them. He stood up and moved towards the bathroom, unable to look at Felicity's face.

"I'm going to grab a shower. You should try to get some sleep."

"Ok." He heard her sigh softly. "Oliver?"

He turned back to see her lying back in the bed, his sheets tucked around her.

"Thank you."

He knew she was thanking him for more than dinner. For the first time since the nightclub she looked happy, and her smile had its old warmth again. Oliver smiled in return and nodded, turning the lights off and ducking into the bathroom before he had time to say or do anything else.

He took his time in the shower, hoping she would be asleep by the time he was finished, but when he exited the bathroom, shirtless and wearing only a pair of shorts, he saw her eye crack open. He kept walking, moving toward the couch, keenly aware of her watching him.

"You're going to sleep on that small couch?" She sounded half asleep, but he could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"It's fine, I've slept in a lot worse places." Despite his words Oliver hesitated, glancing between the bed and what was, if he was being honest, a ridiculously small couch. He thought of joining Felicity under the sheets and felt his whole body tense. He shook his head. The couch was definitely the better option.

"Oliver, you need to rest," this time she sounded genuinely concerned, as she often did when she thought he was doing something unnecessarily dangerous or nonsensical. "Please, I won't be able to sleep either if you're over there, all gargantuan, trying to squeeze onto that tiny sofa."

Oliver rolled his eyes, telling himself she was making sense and already knowing what he was going to do. He sighed.

"Gargantuan?" he asked, hoping the amusement in his voice hid his sudden nervousness at approaching the bed.

"You know what I mean," she rolled onto her side to make room for him, her voice heavy with sleep. "You're huge, come to bed."

Oliver heard her groan, and even in the half darkness he knew she was wincing. He wondered if she knew that he was smiling. He slid into bed next to her, once again being careful not to touch her. There was a weighted silence.

"Goodnight, Felicity."

"Goodnight, Oliver."

She sounded tired enough that she might actually sleep. Oliver focused on his breathing, keeping it slow and even, and wondered if he would get any sleep that night.


	6. Chapter 6

Oliver came awake to the sensation of something brushing against his chest. Forcing himself to keep still he opened one eye slightly, trying to get his bearings before revealing he was awake. What he saw made his breath catch.

Felicity was tracing the scars on his chest.

Oliver concentrated on his breathing, not wanting to disturb her by letting her know he was awake. She was on his left side, leaning over him, her long blond hair partially concealing her face. His eyes were drawn to the bare skin of her neck and collarbone, and the purple bra strap exposed by his t-shirt hanging loosely from her shoulder. He realised that her knee was pressing against his thigh, but this was only a peripheral distraction. All of Oliver's mind, all of his body, was focused on her finger-tips as they lightly brushed across his skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He shut his eyes, struggling not to gasp, his fingers clenching ever so slightly. She was tracing the scar, the bullet-wound, from when his mother had shot him. He wondered what she was thinking but didn't dare open his eyes to check. Did she regret how it had brought them together? Or was she glad that it had? Was she thinking about how damaged he really was, with scars that were both visible and invisible, and reminding herself to keep her distance?

When the sensation abruptly stopped Oliver's eyes sprang open of their own accord, suddenly needing an answer and not caring if she saw. But Felicity wasn't looking at his face. Her hair had fallen to one side and he could see her expression clearly as he leaned over him, gaze still focussed on the ghosts of his past wounds. He had never seen her look so sad. The pain she felt simply by looking at the faded reminders of his suffering was etched on her face, and Oliver found himself wondering what he had done to deserve such compassion.

But then her hand moved and she was suddenly touching him again, and all thought was banished from his mind. There was only her fingertips and his rapidly quickening breath. Oliver felt her run her finger down the long, deep scar across his left ribs, one of his oldest, from when he had been tortured for the first time. It had hurt, when he had been sliced and stabbed, but the sensation of Felicity's fingertip slowly teasing its way down his abdomen was an agony of a completely different kind. There was a slight pause and this time he didn't dare open his eyes. His jaw clenched and he forced himself not to move, but then his breath caught sharply because her hand was further down, gently stroking the chain that he wore like a brand across his lower abdomen. She began to trace each link, one by one, not lifting her finger as she passed from one loop to the next. Oliver knew exactly how far that scar descended, and the anticipation of her touching him lower and lower was almost harder to bear than the sensation itself. His right hand clutched a fistful of the sheets and he willed her not to notice, terrified that she would stop.

Despite his best efforts, his breath was coming harder and he fought to keep it under control. Behind Felicity's back his left arm lifted of its own accord, wanting to touch her, to show her what she was doing to him. At the same moment her fingers reached the last two links, slipping down from the raised muscle of his abdomen to the more tender skin beneath. He gasped loudly, his breath finally escaping in a short, wordless burst. He felt her tense and pull her hand away, and opened his eyes to see her looking at him, her face a mixture of embarrassment and surprise.

"Oliver, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Felicity began, her cheeks reddening.

She leaned back, turning away, but Oliver's arm was already behind her, holding her in place. She turned towards him, confused, and really looked at him for the first time. He heard her shuddering breath as their eyes met and then he was surging upwards, grasping her face in his right hand, crushing her against his chest with his left. He tilted her head back and pressed his lips to hers, sliding his tongue into her already open mouth. He felt her hand come up to grasp the back of his neck, her other hand wrapping around his shoulder and gripping the muscles of his back. The force of his kiss pushed her backwards, down onto the sheets, and she clung to him as he followed her.

Not breaking the kiss, Oliver's hands caressed her, needing her body to be as inflamed as his. They slipped beneath her shirt, stroking the soft skin of her stomach, feeling her convulse in response. They moved upwards, finding the gentle curves of her breasts, forcing a moan from her throat. He smiled against her mouth and sucked her bottom lip between his, feeling her shudder as he cupped and squeezed her breasts. He ran his thumb lightly over a hardening nipple and her hips surged against his, her foot kneading the back of his thigh as she pulled him closer. He groaned, knowing what she wanted, his hand slipping down to squeeze her buttock, his forehead resting against hers as he gasped for air.

He didn't know how far to take this and he struggled to remember the reasons why he should stop. Like everything else since Felicity had climbed onto the back of his bike the night before, it simply seemed right. He told himself to stop, but then her hips twitched beneath him and he groaned again, his mouth slamming back into hers in a fierce kiss. At the same time he yanked the t-shirt she was wearing upwards, pulling off her bra and exposing her breasts. His hand slipped between her legs, stroking her through the thin shorts she wore, while his lips slid down her neck and chest. He felt her head fall back as her back arched and moved further down, sucking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue. She cried out, her fingers combing convulsively through his hair, and a surge of excitement shot through him.

Without a second thought he slipped his hand inside her shorts and underwear, revelling in her wetness and the knowledge that it was for him. She shuddered when he touched her, her hand moving to slide across his chest, reaching for his waistband. He caught her fingers in his other hand and gently pressed them back onto the bed. He did not want this to be about him. Maybe he was holding back, still scared to fully cross that line with her, or maybe it was that he just wanted to pleasure her. Somehow, in this moment, setting her body alight with as many sensations as he could give her was more meaningful to him than any of the other sex he had in his life.

He flexed his fingers between her legs, stroking her lightly, slowly at first, learning what she liked and savouring her body shivering and trembling against him. He kissed her neck, her earlobes, her breasts, stopping every so often to watch the sensations surging across her face. Her head was thrown back, hair spread out across the sheets. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she gasped and moaned, his free hand still tightly clutched in hers. He changed the rhythm of his fingers and her breathing grew more rapid. He knew she was close. Suddenly she brought his other hand to her mouth, sucking his finger between her lips, licking and flicking his finger tip with her tongue. Oliver groaned, almost climaxing himself from the sheer force of her need. She said his name. He had heard that word on her lips a thousand times, but never like this. It was a cry, a release, a plea, and a confession all in one. And then she was moaning, screaming, writhing beneath him, her entire body convulsing as he held her.

When the moment passed and she lay senseless across the bed, Oliver clutched her to him, treasuring the sensation of her relaxed and satisfied in his arms. He nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her hair, realising that nothing would ever be the same between them. He listened to her breath gradually slowing and accepted that this was where he belonged, knowing he would never be able to keep his distance from her again.

Eventually Felicity stirred and turned towards him, her big blue eyes still dark and unfocused.

"Hey," he said softly.

She bit her lip, a small furrow appearing in her brow. "Oliver..," she began, but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Her eyes widened in panic.

Oliver swore, rolling from the bed and striding across the apartment.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," Diggle answered, "who else would it be?"

Oliver heard Felicity yelp behind him, and turned to see her frantically tugging his t-shirt back down over her body.

"Are you guys ok?" Diggle called.

"Yeah, yes, fine," Oliver answered quickly, eyes darting back towards Felicity, "just a minute."

He pulled on a fresh t-shirt and crossed to the door, waiting until Felicity dashed towards the bathroom before opening it. Diggle stood outside, a shopping bag in his arms.

"Oliver."

"Hey, Dig, good morning," Oliver said, doing his best to sound casual and stepping back to allow the other man in. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced over to see Felicity, turning around and bending down hastily to pluck something from the floor. It was purple, lacy, and looked suspiciously like a bra. She fled into the bathroom with her head down, closing the door firmly behind her.

Oliver shut his eyes for a second, holding his breath, and when he turned back Diggle was looking at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Well her ankle seems better," Diggle said dryly. There was a pause. "I take it you two talked."

"Um, yes," Oliver answered, his mind going back to his conversation with Felicity the night before. He was starting to remember some of the things he had told her, about her importance to him, about not wanting to risk their friendship. He frowned. "It's... complicated."

Diggle inhaled deeply, rolling his eyes. He began to shake his head.

"So, you went shopping?" Oliver asked, gesturing towards the bag in his partner's arms and refusing to acknowledge the judgement on his face.

"Yes," Diggle answered after a moment, his tone dry and humourless. "Well, I asked Lyla to. Thought Felicity might need a few things."

"Good, good idea."

There was an awkward silence. Felicity still showed no sign of emerging from the bathroom.

"Any word from Detective Lance?" Oliver asked.

"Still nothing from that guy we grabbed. I think we need to get Felicity to look him up on her systems, see if she can dig up anything on him." There was a slight pause. "That is, provided she's still working with us."

Oliver opened his mouth to argue, and then stopped when he realised the other man had a point. His conversation with Felicity last night had cleared things up, or so he had thought, but now? He tried to see things from her perspective and his heart sank. At best, she would be confused, at worst... he didn't want to think about that. She had been about to say something when Diggle knocked. He looked towards the bathroom. They really needed to talk.

"Felicity?" he called out, suddenly desperate to see her, hoping he could read her feelings in her expression.

"Yeah, just a second," she called back, her voice quivering slightly.

By the time the door cracked open Diggle had already reached it. He held out the shopping bag.

"Here, Lyla got you a few things."

"Oh, wow, thanks. That's awesome. I'll just go get changed quickly."

She refused to look Diggle in the eye, grabbing the bag and ducking back into the bathroom. From what Oliver could see, she was mostly embarrassed. His fists clenched. He really needed to talk to her. His phone pinged on the counter and he glanced at it, recognising one of Felicity's custom notifications. He saw Diggle pull his own phone from his pocket at the same time.

"The tracker on the weapons case is active," Oliver said. "We need to get moving." He glanced toward the bathroom again.

"What are we going to do about Felicity?" Diggle asked, his tone instantly serious. "They have her ID'ed."

Oliver smiled grimly. "It's ok, I have a plan." He saw the other man's brow furrow. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

At that moment Felicity came out of the bathroom, dressed in a pretty pink sundress and white ballet flats, the bruise on her ankle barely noticeable. Her eyes were downcast and she fiddled with her glasses, avoiding their gazes. Oliver couldn't help staring at her, knowing that this wasn't something she would have picked for herself but admiring her in it nonetheless. The thought crossed his mind that it highlighted her femininity, her inherent beauty. He caught Diggle's wry glance as he looked between them.

"Yeah, you know exactly what you're doing," his partner said.


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver came to a stop in the enclosed car park outside the new lair, his eyes flicking instantly towards Diggle's car. It was empty, of course. Diggle and Felicity had left before him, the other man offering to take her in his car given her injured ankle. Oliver had wanted to object, but Felicity had instantly agreed. He frowned, remembering how she had left his apartment without meeting his eyes and without a backward glance. It was as if she couldn't get out of there fast enough.

He climbed off his bike hurriedly, grabbing his bag and striding towards the lair. He needed to see her, if only to find out how she was feeling. If she was angry, he hoped he could explain. If she was hurt or confused, he would at least try to explain. If she regretted what happened… Oliver didn't want to think about that. He tried to tell himself that wasn't the issue, but he found it all too easy to think of reasons why she would regret becoming involved with him. He still believed that it was probably better for her to keep her distance, but he was starting to accept that the choice was hers. Oliver told himself he would respect her decision, no matter how much it might hurt.

He opened the security door to find a scene not unlike the one from the previous day. It was as if nothing had changed, although for him it felt as if everything had. Felicity was at her computers, eyes focused on her task, but he couldn't help seeing her differently now, now that he had felt her naked body beneath him and had heard her screaming his name in ecstasy. When Diggle moved towards him he realised he was staring, and quickly looked away.

"Any news?" he asked quietly, suddenly unwilling to attract Felicity's attention.

"Felicity's been gathering as much information as she can on the owners of the night club and the guy the police have in custody. Nothing surprising there really."

Diggle began moving towards the computers and Oliver followed warily in his wake, eyes constantly flicking towards Felicity. He was suddenly afraid there would be a repeat of the previous day, and he would have to watch her walking away from him once more. He felt a sharp stab of relief when she finally spoke.

"All I've got is some names and some old police files."

She sounded… normal. As if nothing had happened. Oliver frowned, but quickly adopted a neutral expression when she glanced his way.

"If you ask me, these guys are fairly small time. If it wasn't for the fact they've got someone in the military making some cash on the side by selling them arms, they would barely be a blip on the radar."

Felicity looked back towards her monitors and wrinkled her nose.

"Oh, here's the file on the nightclub owner. Simon Raine."

She paused, eyeing the file, and Oliver moved closer, ostensibly to get a look at the screen.

"Huh, he's kinda hot," Felicity said in surprise. She glanced over her shoulder towards Oliver and shrugged. "Must be a nightclub owner thing."

She turned back to her screens and continued pulling up files, still talking, but Oliver had stopped listening. He stared at the back of her head, mouth hanging open. Had she meant to say that out loud? He could have sworn she smiled when she looked at him. Diggle cleared his throat pointedly and Oliver looked towards him, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"So, earlier you were saying you had a plan?" Diggle asked. He looked like he was struggling to hide a smile. For a moment Oliver had no idea what he was talking about.

"Yes. That's right," he said finally. He stepped back from Felicity's chair, needing some space to get his thoughts together, and pursed his lips. "Where are the weapons right now?"

"That's the funny thing," Felicity answered, spinning in her seat, "they're actually back at the Q club."

"The Q club. Ok," Oliver said hurriedly, refusing to dwell on the images that hit him when he pictured the nightclub.

"They must have realised that the police wouldn't be able to get another warrant once the first search came up empty," Diggle added. He turned towards Oliver. "Will that be a problem?"

"No," Oliver answered confidently. "That should work perfectly."

His eyes strayed towards Felicity again, who was watching him with a neutral expression.

"We need to call Detective Lance and set up a meeting for later. And, Felicity…" He hesitated, suddenly nervous. "I'll need you to come with me."

* * *

Oliver weaved through the city traffic, making his way towards the meeting point he had arranged with Detective Lance. It was late evening and the roads were reasonably clear, but he still felt the need to drive carefully. Behind him Felicity clutched his green leather suit tightly, her head buried against his back to shelter from the wind. She was still wearing the pink dress Diggle had brought her and Oliver belatedly realised she must be cold. He wished he had thought to give her a jacket.

He still hadn't had a chance to talk to Felicity alone, but she had agreed to his plan and come with him without any objections. Apart from that she had said little, but Oliver wasn't sure what that meant, or if it even meant anything at all. Diggle had been with them until they had left the lair, and he had no intention of talking to her about this morning until they were alone and sure not to be disturbed.

He rounded a corner and felt Felicity shift against him, her hands sliding along his waist. Oliver suddenly wondered if her fingers were cold. He thought of telling her to slip her hands beneath his jacket to warm them, and then frowned in annoyance as he realised how that would sound. He clenched his jaw, trying not to delude himself into reading anything into the fact that she was with him now, but there was a certain intimacy to the way that she was holding him, with her entire body pressed tightly against his, that made his thoughts stray in dangerous directions.

Oliver pulled into the empty warehouse where he had asked Detective Lance to meet them, his mouth twisting when he saw that the police officer was already there and waiting. He was starting to wonder if he would ever have a chance to speak to Felicity alone. He sighed deeply and felt Felicity's arms tighten in response. Instinct made him turn his head towards her, even though he could not see her expression and he knew that his own was hidden by his hood.

The detective was leaning against his car, his arms folded, eyeing them sourly as the bike rolled to a stop. Oliver dismounted and turned to help Felicity, offering her his hand. He saw her cheeks flush and her eyes flashed briefly to his as his gloved hand closed around her fingers.

"Miss Smoak," Detective Lance called from behind them, "it's good to see you again."

"Detective," Felicity answered, her voice warm. "Thanks for agreeing to this."

She smiled broadly but stayed close to Oliver, her hand still held in his. Oliver saw the detective's eyes narrow slightly as he noticed.

"The weapons are back at the Q club," Oliver said quickly, his voice warped and thickened by his modulator. "From what we can tell, they'll be in the storeroom beneath the club."

"You mean the same place you got me and my boys to search the last time?" Lance asked, his tone sharp.

"They moved them. They knew you were coming." Oliver was annoyed, but he was mostly distracted by the fact that Felicity still hadn't let go of his hand. She wound her fingers through his and squeezed gently, as if sensing his agitation.

"We're sure they're there now, detective," Felicity said brightly. "They think it's the last place you'll look. Besides, since you found nothing the last time, they know you won't get a warrant to look again. Which is why you have to go in on your own, obviously, without back-up." She gestured towards Oliver with her free hand. "Except for him, of course."

"Yeah. Lucky me."

"You and Felicity," Oliver said tightly. "She has to be there."

"I know," Lance responded, "I understood the first time you told me." He looked towards Felicity. "Well, you and I better get going then, Miss Smoak."

Oliver noticed that the detective's tone softened as he spoke to Felicity, and felt oddly grateful for it. He glanced at her as she took a step forward and tightened his grip on her hand, turning her towards him. When she looked up at him, the dim light of the warehouse darkened her eyes, making them look even larger than usual.

Oliver studied her for a moment, trying to read her, noting the question in her eyes as he scanned her face. "Be careful," he said quietly, the words directed at her alone. He saw her nod and begin to turn away but something made him tighten his grip further and pull her back towards him again. She was smaller than he was used to, in her flat shoes, and Oliver leaned down, holding her gaze with his.

"When this is done, you and I need to talk."

To his surprise she smiled, her eyes shining as she looked up at him.

"I know," she said softly.

Oliver held her gaze a moment longer, hoping his eyes could tell her everything he couldn't. Finally he released her hand, but instead of walking away Felicity suddenly stepped closer. Oliver saw the intent in her eyes before she moved, but still stood frozen when her hands slipped up inside his hood, her bare fingers stroking his neck. She leaned her body against his, raising herself up on her toes, and kissed him lightly on the lips. But then her mouth lingered and Oliver found himself wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer against him as he felt her kiss deepen. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, her hands stroking the back of his neck while her body pressed tightly against his. Oliver responded hungrily, all thoughts and awareness banished by the sensation of Felicity in his arms. Finally she pulled back, gasping for breath, and dropped back down onto the soles of her feet. Her hands slipped down his chest as she looked up at him, and her mouth curved in a small smile.

"I've always wanted to do that," she whispered, biting her lip.

She stepped back and turned away from him, crossing towards Detective Lance's car, while Oliver stared after her, speechless. He swallowed, mentally shaking himself, trying to get his thoughts back in order. But his mouth cracked open in a large grin, one he was powerless to suppress. When he finally looked towards the detective, the other man was watching him from under his eyebrows.

"So you can smile," Lance observed dryly.

"Take care of her," Oliver growled, hoping that his modulator could make him appear sinister, even if his expression did not. "I'll be watching."

"Yeah," the detective said sardonically, "I bet you will."


	8. Chapter 8

"Dig, you got eyes on them?"

Oliver paced restlessly across the top of the building overlooking the Q Club, twisting his bow in agitation.

"Not yet, Oliver. I'll let you know when I do."

Oliver frowned, ignoring the mild annoyance in his partner's voice, and moved to the edge of the rooftop again. He was positioned on top of a building overlooking the storage entrance at the back of the club, half hidden by a small shed, and it was agonisingly quiet. The yard beneath him was empty, all deliveries having finished some hours ago and, given that it was a Monday night, even the club itself was closed. He gritted his teeth, fingers of his right hand tensing, wishing he could see her.

"Why hasn't she got her comms on?" he muttered under his breath.

"She must still be on the way. We told her to check in when they got here."

Oliver grimaced, not bothering to reply. He regretted letting her out of his sight, never mind not asking her to stay in constant contact. A few lengthy minutes passed in silence before he snapped.

"I'm calling her."

"Oliver…"

He ignored Diggle's obvious exasperation and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly bringing up Felicity's number. He had an odd sense of déjà vu as he listened to the dial tone ringing with no response and fought a growing sense of panic.

"Dig, she's not answering her phone. Something's wrong."

"No, sorry. I forgot to tell you," Diggle replied calmly, "she's using a different number right now."

There was a long moment of strained silence.

"She changed her number?" Oliver asked finally, his voice tight.

He thought back to the last time he had tried calling Felicity, when she had walked out of the base after their argument. She must have changed her number before she even came to meet them that day. Had she really been that determined to leave? Oliver placed a hand over his face, his eyes slamming shut. He had not realised how determined she had been to cut him out of her life. It hurt. A lot. If he had had any doubts of how much it would pain him to lose her, or how unbearable it would be to have her really leave him, they were gone now.

"Dig…" He didn't even know what he wanted to say, but the pain in his voice must have been evident.

"Look man, talk to her about it," his partner said carefully. There was a pause and he heard the other man sigh. "I'm going to regret asking this, but did you at least get a chance to talk to her earlier?"

Oliver hesitated, remembering his last moments with Felicity. Despite his fears a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, even as he felt his heart rate pick up slightly at the memory of her pressed tightly against him. His voice was warm when he replied.

"Yes. Well, not talk, but…"

"O-kay. Already regretting it. Let's just leave it there, alright?"

Oliver smiled beneath his hood, thinking of how good it had felt to have Felicity kiss him. His thoughts drifted back over the previous night and morning, to memories of her safe and comfortable in his apartment, of cooking for her, caring for her, loving her. The rightness of it all was still fresh in his mind. He sighed deeply, knowing that the reasons he had had for keeping her at arm's length didn't seem so reasonable anymore. He still wasn't sure if it could work, if he could manage to be with her without hurting her or driving her away, but the one thing he was certain of was that he couldn't keep his distance from her any longer.

He moved back to the edge of the rooftop, keeping to the shadows as his eyes scanned the yard. Where was she? Even though he was starting to get his head around what he wanted, it bothered him how uncertain he was of how Felicity actually felt. What if he had done too much damage already, telling her one thing while doing another? He had been so caught up in his own battle, he had never gotten to the point where he wondered how she felt about it all.

Oliver grimaced, leaning against the wall of the shed, finally coming to terms with a realisation that had been growing on him over the last few days. He had taken it upon himself to decide the future for both of them, without ever considering where Felicity stood. He had been a fool and, he knew, if he wasn't careful he could lose her still. Diggle's voice sounded over the comms.

"Here they come."

Oliver's head snapped up, eyes locking onto the corner of the night club where he knew they would emerge.

"Dig, you know what to do?"

He heard his partner sigh heavily. "Keep my eyes on Felicity. Watch her back. Avoid running into Detective Lance if I can, but wear a mask just in case."

Oliver nodded, nerves strung too tight to respond. He still couldn't see her.

"She'll be ok, Oliver."

At that moment, Felicity's voice rang in Oliver's ear.

"Anybody here?"

"Hey Felicity," Diggle said, his voice warm. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good, a little nervous, but you know…"

There was a pause. Oliver realised he still hadn't spoken.

"Felicity." He struggled to keep the tension from his voice. "Are you wearing Kevlar?"

"Yep, Detective Lance said you insisted. Apparently you hinted at horrible repercussions if I didn't? For him, I mean. Not me obviously, because I'd probably, you know, be dead or something."

"Felicity!"

Oliver didn't want to sound so angry with her, but listening to her talking about being killed was not helping matters. He clenched his jaw. All he really wanted to say was he loved her and he'd die to protect her. He hoped she already knew.

At that moment a shadow moved at the corner of the building where his gaze was trained. His eyes narrowed as he saw Quentin Lance edge around the corner, gun already drawn. The detective hesitated, glancing towards the neighbouring rooftop, and Oliver stepped away from the wall where he had been hidden to allow his silhouette to be outlined in the moonlight. He saw the detective nod curtly and then move towards the storeroom door. Oliver barely paid any attention to him, eyes caught by the small figure who hurried behind, her gait punctuated by a slight limp. Even from here he could see the police uniform she wore, but his attention was caught by the gun she held tentatively in front of her. His mouth twisted, hating to see the weapon in her hand but at the same time glad that she was armed. Oliver knew that Diggle had given her some training in firearms, but he still hoped she would not have to use it, for more reasons than one.

He moved closer to the edge of the rooftop, his descent already planned, watching with shallow breath as Felicity holstered the gun and edged towards the keypad on the warehouse door. Her voice whispered in his earpiece.

"We need to get to the office," he heard her tell the detective. "I hacked Simon Raine's phone and his GPS puts him there."

"Right," was the muffled reply. "But first we find those weapons, then I'm calling it in, and after that we get him."

Oliver continued scanning the yard, making sure they weren't disturbed. From the corner of his eye he could see the faint glow of the tablet in Felicity's hands and the soft beeping of the keypad rang in his earpiece. Two rapid chimes sounded and he knew the door was unlocked.

"Got it!"

Even though she was whispering Oliver could hear the triumph in her voice. He smiled beneath his hood.

"Be careful," he murmured.

"I will."

And then she was gone, disappearing into the darkened store behind the detective. Oliver was over the side of the rooftop in an instant, dropping onto a nearby freight container and rolling. He jumped from the edge and landed on the ground in a low crouch, ears straining for any sounds of disturbance.

"Felicity?" he whispered.

"Still ok." Her voice shook slightly but Oliver was relieved just to hear it.

"I'm right behind you, Felicity," Diggle added reassuringly.

Oliver crossed the darkened yard in a jog, his nerves growing wire-tight with every moment that he couldn't see her. He fought the urge to check in with her again over the comms. He was already at the door when a sudden burst of gunfire flared, followed by an abrupt silence. Oliver's heart stopped.

"Felicity!"

He didn't bother being quiet, already rocketing through the open doorway. He was met with rows of crates stacked atop each other, blocking both his path and his view. He clambered up them quickly, desperate to lay eyes on Felicity, needing to know what was happening. Within seconds he was atop the containers, crouching down and peering into the darkened room. The storeroom was in shadow, but the light from the streetlamps outside and the emergency lamps on the roof revealed more stacks of containers filling the large space.

He couldn't see her.

"Felicity!" he hissed again, refusing to imagine the worst.

There was no answer, the silence torn again by another abrupt round of gunshots. Oliver's eyes snapped towards the flash of gunfire. From what he could tell, the shots were coming from two different positions towards the back of the storeroom, one in the left corner and the other on the right, near the doorway to the manager's office. He moved to the right, making sure he wasn't outlined by the lights behind him, barely controlling his panic but unable to prevent disturbing images from crowding his imagination.

"Diggle, what's happening?"

"It looks like they surprised some of Raine's guys. He must have left them to watch the weapons." His partner's voice was strained but controlled.

"Can you see her?" Oliver asked, extremely aware of how close he was to losing control. At that moment Felicity's voice came over the comms.

"We're ok. My earpiece just came loose when Detective Lance pulled me down. We're behind one of the crates in the centre of the warehouse." She sounded oddly calm and Oliver felt a sudden surge of pride in her, even as his relief at hearing her voice threatened to overwhelm him.

"Ask him if he can outflank those guys or something," Oliver heard Lance mutter in Felicity's ear, "we're pinned down here. I'm calling for backup."

Oliver was already moving, keeping to the shadows as he ghosted across the tops of the containers.

"Digg, I'm on the crates. Make sure you get eyes on Felicity," he muttered quietly.

"Already on it," was the clipped reply.

Oliver glided along the right side of the room, keeping to the tops of the crates. Halfway along the wall he came up short, grimacing as he realised the tall stacks of containers ended there. All that remained were a few clusters of crates, none piled more than two high and offering limited shelter. Glancing to his left, he thought he saw a glimpse of blond hair hidden behind a small pile of containers in the centre of the room. He wanted to make sure, but there was no time to linger and he couldn't risk giving away his position.

Oliver dropped to the ground, already regretting everything about this plan. The warehouse should have been empty, apart from Raine and a security guard or two. Lance and Felicity should have been able to stroll right in with minimal assistance from himself and Diggle. Felicity should never, ever have been in the kind of danger she was in right now. He struggled with the inclination to hold himself accountable, reminding himself again that it was Felicity who had made the decision to be there, but an overpowering sense of guilt buffeted him regardless.

Another burst of gunfire came from up ahead and Oliver rolled to the side, taking shelter behind a nearby container. He looked up to see two shadowy shapes crouching behind a large crate near the doorway to the manager's office. He cursed under his breath, realising that the angle of the containers meant he couldn't get a clear shot with his bow.

"Dig, I need some cover fire," Oliver whispered.

There was no verbal response, only a flurry of gunshots from the opposite side of the warehouse. Oliver saw his targets' heads turn in that direction and quickly slipped between the shadows to manoeuvre behind them. As soon as the gunfire stopped he was amongst them, striking one on the back of the head before turning to the other and punching him in the jaw as he turned. He disarmed them both easily, landing a few more blows to ensure they were out. Felicity's voice reverberated in his ear.

"Detective Lance is going to take out the guys on the left," she said evenly.

"I'll cover him," Dig replied.

"Alright." Oliver stepped forward to cross towards Felicity's position, needing to be next to her to prove to himself that she was safe. He froze in place when he heard a bullet being chambered loudly behind him.

"Don't move," a man's voice snapped.

Oliver raised his hands slowly, trying to gauge his opponent's position from the sound of his voice. He realised he needed to get him to talk.

"Simon Raine, I take it?" he asked, his modulated voice sounding overloud in the silence. Another burst of gunfire rang out abruptly to the left.

"That's right," came the shaky reply. Oliver guessed the man had very few guards left. "I wonder who you are, under that hood."

Oliver slid his foot backwards, ostensibly to turn but also to further close the distance between him and the gun. Raine's nervous shout held him in place.

"I told you not to move!"

Oliver rolled his eyes at the heightened nervousness in the man's tone. The nightclub owner was close to panic, and panicked gunmen tended to shoot at the slightest provocation.

A female voice broke the tense silence. "You're the one who shouldn't move," Felicity said, stepping out from behind a line of crates, her gun raised. "Freeze… I mean."

Oliver's heart thumped in his chest. What was she thinking? Her eyes were fastened on the gunman and she seemed outwardly calm, but he hoped Raine didn't have enough experience with the police to see past the borrowed uniform to the IT girl beneath. He knew he had to end this fast. Now, before Felicity got hurt.

Oliver tilted his head a little to right and saw her pick up on the slight gesture. Without taking her eyes from Raine Felicity began edging sidewards, manoeuvring to get a clearer shot. On cue, Oliver heard Raine shuffle closer behind him, attempting to use Oliver's body as a shield. Knowing he was close enough Oliver spun, knocking the gun to the side and launching himself at the nightclub owner. He hit him hard, more times than he should have, even though the gun had technically been pointing at him and not at Felicity.

"Sir, thank you for you assistance," he heard Felicity say, her tone formal and carefully pitched, "but we do need him alive."

He looked up to see her standing close behind, the gun held loosely in her grip. Even though her tone was distant and aloof, her expression was not. Oliver's breath caught as he turned towards her, suddenly aware that the last time he was this close to her she had kissed him. He was about to say something when Lance emerged from the other side of the warehouse, handcuffs at the ready.

"Took care of those other guys," the detective said a little breathlessly. He looked at Oliver from the corner of his eye. "You got someone else with you?" His tone implied he already knew the answer.

"A friend," Oliver said noncommittally.

He stepped aside to allow the detective to cuff Raine, his own eyes glued to Felicity. Even now, seeing her in safe in front of him, his worry was not completely dispelled. He struggled with the urge to grab her hand and drag her from the storeroom, to not let go of her until they were safely back in the tiny apartment that had somehow become their sanctuary. And, even though he knew his eyes were hidden in the shadows of his hood, he watched Felicity meet his gaze and smile reassuringly, as if hearing his thoughts. Neither of them spoke.

"Officer Smoak," Lance interrupted dryly, his gaze passing between them. "You think you could check those crates behind you? Seems to be an awful lot of stock here for a simple nightclub."

"Yes, sir," Felicity replied, turning to the containers. Oliver resisted the temptation to help her, edging backwards into the shadows instead. It was important that no particular connection be drawn between Felicity and the Arrow if his plan was to work.

"You got a lot of problems here, Mr. Raine," he heard Lance say. "Not only did your guys fire at myself and Officer Smoak here, but you sent some of them to her house. Now that's just asking for a world of trouble."

Oliver nodded to himself, grateful that Lance was doing everything he could to build up Felicity's cover. That, coupled with the fake personnel file Felicity had planted in the SCPD system, should be enough to stop Raine or any of his associates from paying any further attention to her. Since Felicity's scans had shown that all Raine's men had been able to get on her was a name and address, to all appearances she would be nothing more than a pretty police officer singled out for some light undercover work. He hoped it would be enough.

Oliver was already on top of the stacks on the edge of the storeroom when Felicity's voice echoed through the silence.

"Yes! Got them! So that looks like ten, twenty… thirty crates of military grade weapons?" Oliver looked back to see her turning towards Raine, a satisfied smile on her face. "Book 'im, detective."

Oliver stifled a laugh but could not suppress his smile. Diggle's amused groan reverberated through his earpiece.

"Hey man, you get out ok?" Oliver asked warmly.

"Yeah, but you better get moving. We got cop cars pulling up out front and more coming round the back."

"Alright. I'll see you back at the base." He sprinted across the tops of the crates towards the back door, not bothering to be quiet. "Felicity?"

"Yes?"

Oliver hesitated, suddenly realising that they were finally going to have the opportunity to talk. For some reason he thought of her changed number and his anxiety grew. If she had been that serious about leaving him once, it could very easily happen again. He couldn't mess this up.

"I'll be waiting for you outside." He found himself wishing he was better at this and cast around for something to say. "Make sure Detective Lance gets you out before the other officers notice you and start asking questions."

"Alright."

Oliver wondered if he detected a hint of nervousness in her tone. He crossed the yard silently, narrowly avoiding being caught in the headlights of the incoming police cars, and took shelter beside the freight container he had used in his earlier descent into the yard. He watched the backup officers race into the still darkened warehouse, using all of his training to try focus his thoughts. He was still shaken from the panic that had hit him when he first heard the gunshots, and all of his previous rationalisations suddenly seemed naïve and reckless. He struggled to get his head together, but all too soon a small shape slipped out the corner of the storeroom door and began crossing the yard.

"I'm at the container, Felicity," Oliver whispered tightly into his comms unit.

A few moments later she was next to him, staring up into his face with her eyes large and dark in the shadows, mouth already opened to speak. Oliver placed a finger to his lips and pointedly turned off his comms. He watched Felicity do the same. Without another word he stepped close to her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He saw her eyes widen and, not breaking her gaze, he activated the rappel arrow he had already fired into the side of the shed on the rooftop, holding her close as they shot rapidly upwards.

When they reached the rooftop he set her on her feet, embracing her for a moment longer than necessary, just to reassure himself that she was really there, safe and unharmed. And then he very carefully stepped away, pulling his hood down and lowering his mask, safely concealed by the shadows cast by the small shed.

Felicity stayed where she was, a look of dismay crossing her features. She wrapped her arms around herself defensively.

"Oliver…" she began, her voice strained.

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted her, and then paused, not knowing how to continue. Residual traces of panic still shot through him, the fear he had felt for her when he had first heard the gunshots still fresh in his mind. He said the first thing that came into his head. "You changed your number."

"What?"

"Your phone number, you changed it."

Felicity sighed, touching her glasses nervously and refusing to meet his gaze. "Oliver, what's this about?"

"It's about you leaving, it's about me losing you. I tried to explain. I can't…" Oliver groaned. He had no idea what he wanted to say anymore. "I don't know if I can risk this…us…"

He wasn't even sure if that was what he actually wanted to say. The incident in the storeroom had rattled him more than he had expected and all of his fears and worries were boiling to the surface.

"For the record, and not that it matters," Felicity shot back, "but I didn't change my number. I just broke my phone."

She said it as if she was admitting something embarrassing and Oliver frowned in confusion.

"That night, after you kissed me, I was…" she took a shuddering breath, "I was really upset. And I threw my phone against the wall and smashed it. That's how much you got to me, Oliver Queen. You made me break my phone."

He wasn't sure if she was trying to be funny, because the pain in her voice was drowning out everything else. Oliver shut his eyes, unable to look at her anguished expression. To his surprise, she laughed humourlessly.

"Look at us," Felicity said, a note of bitterness in her voice. She gestured around her, taking in the nightclub in the distance, "right back where we started."

Oliver swallowed, knowing exactly what she meant. In fact, that was exactly how he felt. He was right back where he had started, struggling with his feelings for her but terrified to upset their carefully balanced relationship. For a moment he considered ending things with Felicity completely, sending her away for her own safety. He stared at her, trying to summon the words that would finally finish things between them, but when he looked in her eyes all he could see was her strength, her courage, and her steadfast belief in him and in what they did together.

He suddenly realised that she was wrong. They weren't back where they had started; they could never go back. He had changed and so had she. They could only move forward, either together or apart. Oliver already knew which option he would choose. For him, somehow, it had become the only choice.

"We're not back where we started," he said finally, his tone softening.

That brief moment of clarity had changed everything and he felt a smile beginning to break across his face. He saw Felicity eye him warily, noting his change in demeanour, and he took a step closer to her. He gestured at her clothing. "For one thing, we seem to have switched outfits somewhere along the way."

He saw her frown for a second and then begin to understand, remembering their first night in the Q Club and how they had been dressed. Oliver looked her up and down, taking his time, allowing himself to fully absorb the sight of her in her police uniform. He let his eyes linger suggestively on the handcuffs hooked to her belt, glancing at her face just in time to see her cheeks flush.

"I think the cop uniform looks better on you," she said cautiously, uncertainty written on her face.

Oliver grinned wickedly. "I think green leather definitely looks better on you." He didn't bother to hide the appreciation in his tone.

He had moved closer to her somehow, without even noticing, and she tilted her head upwards to look him in the eye. He was relieved to see her flash a cheeky smile, finally giving in to the playfulness in his manner.

"I know it did." She bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. "That's why you kissed me."

Oliver stopped in his tracks, brow furrowing, and a look of confusion crossed Felicity's face. He considered letting the moment pass, then reminded himself how much was at stake here, and how every word mattered.

"No," he finally admitted, "that's not why I kissed you."

He took a breath, glancing upwards for a moment as he steadied himself. Then he locked eyes with Felicity, close enough to touch her but still not bridging the distance.

"I kissed you because I love you."

The silence that followed seemed interminable. Felicity's eyes scanned his face, her breath coming in short gasps. He was reminded of another night, of very similar words that passed between them. He knew what she was thinking before she spoke.

"That night, with Slade, you were telling the truth?"

The disbelief in her voice was almost painful for Oliver to hear. His fists clenched at his sides but he held her gaze, putting everything he felt for her into his eyes.

"Yes. I love you, Felicity."

She bit her lip, her gaze still roaming over his face. Was he imagining that she wanted to believe him?

"Why did you wait so long to say something?"

Oliver released a shuddering breath. He hadn't expected it to be this difficult to make her accept the truth, especially since all he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her, and then drag her back to the safety of his apartment. He wondered briefly if he should just try that approach, but instantly pushed the idea aside. Felicity deserved better than that. If this was to work he needed to make her understand. He shut his eyes tightly, forcing the words out.

"I was trying to protect you. From everyone who would try to hurt you because of me." He took a breath. "But mostly from myself."

He felt Felicity reach out and clasp one of his clenched fists. He opened his eyes to see her regarding him earnestly, her expression tinged with sadness.

"Oliver, I thought I told you. I thought you understood. It's my life, and it's my choice."

Oliver's grip loosened and he clasped her small hand in his.

"I know and I'm sorry. It's just…" He stroked her knuckles with his thumb, trying to verbalise things that he was only now beginning to understand. "I've lost so many people that I feel like I'm somehow responsible. And I feel like I'm responsible for keeping you safe because…"

"Because you love me," she finished for him.

Oliver still couldn't tell if she believed him or not. He was keenly aware that she hadn't said she loved him back. What if she didn't? What if he had pushed her too far and ruined whatever chance there was for them? He felt his stomach clench. He had to know.

"I make my own decisions, Oliver," Felicity was saying, her tone determined, "I'm responsible for my own choices."

"I know," he said again. "I understand that now. I was trying to decide everything for both of us. I never asked what you wanted and I never gave you a choice." Oliver stepped closer to her, holding her gaze, and placed his hand tentatively on her shoulder. "I'm asking now."

He would have smiled when she leaned her face towards his hand, brushing his fingers with her cheek, but he was so terrified of what she was going to say next that he could barely breathe. When she looked up at him her eyes were shining.

"I love you, Oliver Queen. There's no choice to make."

A gasp of relief escaped him, his hand sliding up her neck to cup her cheek. He leaned forward to kiss her and saw her begin to close her eyes. He stopped abruptly, turning to glance over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Felicity asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He turned back towards her, mouth curved in a broad grin. "Making sure we're not interrupted this time."

She started to smile and then he kissed her, or maybe she kissed him. He wasn't sure which and, for the very first time, it didn't matter.


End file.
